Scar's Story
by Death's Apostle
Summary: The events of the Lion King through different eyes or The real story of Pride rock.


The True story of Scar

By **Death's Apostle**

I wrote this a couple nights ago when I was doing anything but homework. This is how The Lion King really went down. In my opinion, the movie Mufasa was too much like a white supremacist and keeping the Hyenas out of the Pride Lands was too much like segregation. Anyway...enjoy.

**In a kingdom** struggling in the grips of an oppressive king and his proud, and arrogant son , lived a king's brother. Normally over-looked and undervalued because of his physical limitations, this king's brother exercised his mind, and logistical capacities.

Through his studies he came to understand the meaning of prejudice, and hate. The newer tales praised the King for his fair treatment of all, but the king's brother wondered at his banishment of tribes only different from them by skin color. He worried for the future of the kingdom, and the outcast tribe, when he saw the young prince growing eagerly into the zeal set before him by his loving father.

Seeking to realign the little prince's thinking he urged him to seek out the members of the little tribe under the guise of a test of bravery. To the King's Brother's terror there was a misunderstanding and the Prince, his young fiancé, and one of the King's more dunderheaded advisors were brought into the tribe's camp. The advisor, scared out of his mind by the oddly colored strangers and robbed of his wits by the fabricated stories of their cruelty, fled the camp. Upon reaching the King the advisor relate to him a story so different from the true occurring, that the king growled with terror and at once left for the camp.

His arrival at the camp only deteriorated things as he saw the tribe preparing a meal and could only assume they meant to eat his son. The king, in a blood rage, tore the camp apart and left at once ,the young ones at his side.

The King's brother, furious that his plan to integrate the two peoples had only exacerbated the problem, again tried to speak with the young prince. Bringing him out into the wild to distance them both from the oppression surrounding the palace the King's Brother tried to gain the little prince's trust, but was frustrated to find the boy had no mind to listen. Leaving him to torment the lizards inhabiting the barren rock, the King's Brother took a short walk to clear his head and reexamine his strategy.

On the other side of the canyon a single wildebeest was spooked by his own shadow and the entire heard began their stampede into the valley. Frightened for the young boy, but knowing his small stature was no match for the massive beasts the King's Brother ran at once for the King, who responded with appropriate speed.

In the heat of the battle and the dust of the dry ground the King's Brother reached for his brother, missed, and instead dislodged his unsteady hold on the rocky ledge. The King's Brother only saw his fall for a second before his silhouette was swallowed by the fury of frightened hooves.

Stunned and mad was grief the king's brother stumbled slowly into the canyon, the herd long since disappeared, only their ghosts remaining in the prints left in the solid stone and dirt in the air. He thought he heard them crying. Perhaps the poor beasts had finally understood the gravity of what they had done, what had he done, and were weeping in the agony of realization, but no, that was no Wildebeest.

The dust fading away like a dream, a fog the King's brother wish desperately would never dissipate, revealed the King's body lying below a tree. The retched beasts certainly hadn't done the King any favors. His paws, all crushed, were folded at odd, unnatural angles under him. The sight, and the King's broken spine jutting out of the skin along his lower back, made the King's Brother physically ill, but he restrained himself as the Young prince lay crying there beside him. The boy had burrowed himself into his father's lifeless, bloody carcass, and was sobbing so powerfully the King's body shook with eerie creaking.

What should he do...oh god what was to be done? The King was dead. Was this the King's Brother's chance to set things right for the tribe forced to live in the slums of the kingdom. Oh god, how could he be thinking these things. Maybe, now the kingdom could be united as one. It wasn't his place to rule. The young prince was next in line for the throne. But the boy was so like his father, he wouldn't want to listen to the King's Brother. The segregation would continue. The King's Brother couldn't let that happen, could he? Oh god, his brother was dead. It was his fault. He had lead the child into the canyon. He had called the King for help instead of going in himself. It was all his fault. Was it his fault? No, it was just an accident. He had meant to grab his hand, well hadn't he? He didn't want desegregation that badly. This was madness.

The boy looked to him. What was to be done? Run, run away. Oh how he wished he could run, but now was a time for change.

Decision made, The King's Brother meandered back to the palace, and considered going mad.

Desegregation was hard, harder than The King's Brother had thought it would be. Attitudes never changed only the distance of each other in which they resided. The light skinned spurned and spited, and the dark skinned distrusted, but reveled in their new freedoms. Perhaps it had all come to soon. The King's Brother wondered if it had been a fool's errand to begin with. He supposed he was a fool. Life was hard, as was the change, but all would have carried on if not for the sudden drought. The ground split and cracked calling up to the sky, but was rewarded only with scorn. The members of the court were quick to blame The King's Brother, and the tribe members. The trees drooped and died, and grass was a mere memory. Then the herds disappeared and with them the King's Brother's sanity. Some starved, some were hunted, but most faded into the distance with the wind and the scent of rain.

The King's Brother watched, outside himself, as he made the ridiculous advisor, starvation slimming him for the first time in his life, perform limericks almost as annoying as he was. A member of the tribes brought fourth his nutritional concerns and was countered by a member of the court. Couldn't find any food? They were hunters for Allah's sake. Growing crazed and furious the King's Brother struck the court member, the King's Widow, and in a strange twist a fate, there suddenly stood before him the young prince, who didn't look so young anymore. He had inherited his father's body frame, all muscle bulging and rippling and, oh dear, did he look angry.

A small scuffle and the ravings of a madman later the tribal members entered the fight on The King's Brother's behalf and the court members on behalf of the Prince. Clouds gathered in the strengthening darkness, lightning flashed against the fire of the sun's last rays, and thunder grumbled under its breath at being ignored, but no one noticed.

The King's Brother only wondered where the flames had come from as he was throne from a ledge and landed within them.


End file.
